The question dangles in the air for a while. 

Everyone’s silent. 

I’m hoping you’ll say something.

Grasshoppers sing us to sleep.

Dreams of an answer. 

Covered in lyrics.

From songs of the past. 

All the same. 

I thought it was light outside and I walked. 

And I walked nowhere, really. 

I was just following the light. 

It took me to a lot of places.

Some I felt a sort of dejavu, it seemed like I had been there before. 

Some were completely new but they had this ambiance, something I couldn’t explain. 

It was beautiful. 

Birds and butterflies. 

Flowers and bees. 

Rainbows and gold. 

I walked until there was no more light.

I walked all day. 

And it was night time. 

And I was scared. 

And it was raining. 

And monsters came. 

And all I could do was hope for the day. 

But when day came and I could see the butterflies 

But part of the monsters still remained. 

And I woke up knowing that even in the day there could be rain. 


Something beautiful came out of nothing that day. 

You looked at me as if I was the best thing that ever happened to you and I 

Was in heaven.

Wanted to believe with all my heart that everything would fall into place. 

That people saw this thing as beautiful as we did. 

That nobody would hurt us.

Break this orb of colors as bright as the sun. 

I never predicted colors to fade.

I was right, this thing is as beautiful as it was on February 22nd.

Every day it gets brighter and even now beautiful. 

But sometimes 

Sometimes it fades.

And people come back from the past and erase one of the colors we so happily painted. 

And it takes us a while to find the markers again.

It takes us a second longer on each line of color every single time we have to draw it.

It takes double the time to perfect those lines from the very first day.

Eventually we make it better than It’s ever been.

Brighter than It’s ever been.

But everytime a color fades it scares me half to death thinking we won’t get it right again. 

And everytime It’s back in HD I’m scared of pencils because they have an eraser at the end.

I’m scared of water because it could spill

And all of our colors could go away. 

Not to mention the rain. 

Oh how I’m scared of the rain. 

I cried for her. 

Tonight I cried for the girl I used to be. 

I cried for her because all of those emotions came rushing back to me like a brick house suddenly collapsing…. right over my head. 

I cried for all of those times she didn’t have the courage to walk away of a difficult situation. 

Because she tried so hard to solve the problem that never even had an answer to begin with.

I cried for her lack of strength. 

Her lack of sense. 

I cried for her because I knew how she felt. 

I knew how difficult it was to have to chose between two things you love. 

I knew how much she cried when she made the decision 

And I knew how much it hurt. 

I knew most of all, that her love was too powerful. 

Her heart was overjoyed and then it exploded. 

Kinda like the brick house. 

I cried because of all of those times, she never once had the courage to walk away. 

She never once realized the difference between love and hatred.

She didn’t know how to react when something didn’t make any sense.

She .. Didn’t make any sense.

Her head was so scrambled and weak that her body couldn’t help her. 

Her heart couldn’t help her. 

Her mind refused to function. 

She got what she deserved. 

So I cried for her.

Tears came and came and came. 

And came.

And I couldn’t stop them. 

Because to be hurt so badly hurt so terribly hard.

And today as I cry for the girl I used to be, 

I try and smile at the girl that I have become. 

I’m better because I am stronger. 

I am smarter because I have been taught a few of the lessons of life. 

I am afraid of the person I have become. 

Perhaps a little too cold sometimes.

The past teaches but it scars. 

I’m a broken mirror put together by the glue of the things that I have learned. 

So I cried for her.

The old her.

Maybe a little bit for the new her too. 

Better isn’t always better and sometimes I wish I never learned anything at all. 


I heard you speak to me last night. 

You were whispering things I could not hear. 

Saying things so close to my ear. 

I could not help but feel so much fear. 

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn’t be. 

Yet there you were. 

Why are you still haunting me? 

So much time has passed. 

So little things have changed. 

I guess I’ll always have to live with you.

With the past.

With my mistakes. 

Gotta let go sometime. 

Happiness? Dissapointments?

I was asked what makes me happy.. 

I love this topic both in bad ways and good ones. 

I’m pretty sure I’ve written about happiness more than a few times, it just makes me happy to talk about being happy, ya know? 

Most of the times the person responsible for my dissapointment is myself. 

I get so hyped up and have such high expectations that when something doesn’t go my way I get unhappy, dissapointment. 

Brat? I know. 

But I can’t really help it. 

I’m happy when I’m surrounded by people I love, when I’m able to do what I enjoy. 

Honestly, lots of things make me happy. 

Being alone. 

Being with people. 

Getting a manicure. 

A pedicure. 

And the list goes on and on and ON AND ON. 


Hope you guys are doing good.

What makes you happy? 

Who’s responsible for your happiness and what? 

Does it happen to you too when you dissapointment yourself by having such high expectations? 

I need to work on that. 

Xoxo- Vanessa 

Go away. 

The little girl is back. 

She tells me I can’t do it and I believe her.

She tells me that It’s too difficult and I know that’s true. 

She tells me things that give me anxiety.

But she’s me isn’t she? 

Another version of me? 

The version of me that wants to help me but hurts me at the same time. 

My inner voices seem to have dream entities. 

My self-doubt. 

My unwillingness to fail. 

My anxiety.

My difficulties and my problems. 

Anxiety is the little monster that tells me what I can’t do. 

I guess I refuse to believe that there’s something out there too much for me to handle. 

Yes, that might be a horrible idea, but I can’t seem to help it. 

Oh anxiet, won’t you go away?